


Bedroom Window

by scriptingSouls



Category: Free!
Genre: I'm Sorry, M/M, Nothing explicit, Voyeour Haru
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-21
Updated: 2016-08-21
Packaged: 2018-08-10 02:46:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7827376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scriptingSouls/pseuds/scriptingSouls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Haru is struggling through his English homework when something outside his window grabs his attention.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bedroom Window

**Author's Note:**

> Yes you guessed it, I watched Starting days and was so happy at the confirmation of Makoto's bedroom window being visible from Haru's... and so this trainwreck happened.

It was Friday evening and Haru was bored. Makoto was out; his uncle had come for a short visit and the Tachibanas were dining out before bidding him farewell at the train station.

He had wanted to be free from school all week and now that he was, he couldn’t think of anything other than school.

They were both behind on English and Makoto had made plans for them to go through their stacks of homework together that weekend.

Haru didn’t want to spend his weekend not understanding English, it was pointless; they weren’t going to get anything out of it, other than a few headaches and wasting their time.

But there was no arguing with Makoto.  Not that it kept him from trying.

“Haru, try to get ahead with homework today, I’ll try to go through it tonight when I get home so tomorrow we have a clearer idea of what we need to do”

“We are not going to finish it either way”

“Haru! We need to at least try! Between the two of us I know we can make it!”

“Hmm”

“Haru promise me you will go through it tonight!”

“Hmm”

“Haruuuu!”

“Whatever”

Haru sighed, it showed how bored he was when he started recalling memories of Makoto nagging him.

He guessed he had nothing better to do anyway, and it would at least spare him of more nagging.

Reluctantly, he dragged his backpack to his desk and proceeded to confront the dreadful homework, taking his books out and setting everything neatly in place, it a desperate attempt to delay the unavoidable.

“Hmm”

He opened his notebook on that day’s lesson, it seemed like as good a place to start as any.

It was not.

He went through his text book instead…

“uhm”

He checked what assignments they actually had to do, that was the better approach, why waste time on things that weren’t needed? Go straight to the point.

Over half an hour later he had finally come close to understanding something… that he had been right all along, it was a completely and utter waste of time.

He kept trying, though this time with less effort, if that was even possible, but ended up doodling all over his notes instead.

It was really dark outside now, the sun had completely set.

He titled his chair, notebook in his lap, and looked through the window to see the stars.

It was a very clear night; he turned off his desk light and let himself be engulfed in the darkness, the stars shone brighter than ever then.  

Summer was close and it could be felt in the air, he could hear the gentle waves crushing in the distance; he felt an itch under his skin, an itch for water.

He could always take a bath, but it wasn’t the same.

He sighed and closed his eyes, thinking of promises of future days, filled with water and swimming, and no English.

A sudden faint glow disturbed his thoughts so he opened his eyes and looked for the source.

It was coming from Makoto’s house, his bedroom window to be more precise so Makoto was finally home...

He felt a rush of excitement, it was silly, it was late, it wasn’t like they could hang out and play videogames. Plus Makoto would want to study either way.

But it was a distraction; it made him feel, in a way… not alone.

Makoto seemed to had forgotten to close the drapes earlier, so Haru could clearly see him as he sat down in his own desk and proceeded to take his books in the same manner he himself had done sometime earlier.

It was amusing knowing exactly what awaited Makoto, a strange sense of wicked satisfaction at knowing he would soon experience the same frustration he did.

He watched Makoto turning the pages over and scratching his head in confusion for a few mintues, he chuckled like he only did when no one was watching.  

Haru realized it was a bit weird to be watching his best friend like that and decided to go back to his doodles.

He didn’t bother to turn the lights back on, he had a good light source with the moon and Makoto’s window, and he told himself it was because he was too lazy to move, but maybe he just didn’t want to give himself away.

Filling the page with doodles he sketched away, every now and then stealing glances from Makoto, who had grown visibly more frustrated and confused each time Haru gazed his way.

He turned to a blank page ready to fill it with random nonsense too when he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye.

It was Makoto, he had gotten up from his desk seemingly giving up, he was returning the books to his backpack now.

Haru checked the clock and realized Makoto lasted less than he had, he was back to chuckling when suddenly the air got stuck in his throat.

Makoto had turned to the window... and he was stripping now.

Haru gulped.

He knew that Makoto couldn’t see him, his own lights were off and the way their windows were -with his much higher - made it really difficult for Makoto to notice Haru even if his room were lit.

It wasn’t that; and it wasn’t the prospect of seeing his best friend in little to no clothing, he’d seen that already many, countless times in the changing rooms.

It was perhaps the fact that Makoto didn’t know he wasn’t watching, the fact that he was intruding on a private moment.

He knew it was wrong even if Makoto probably wouldn’t think much of it, since it was Haru, as opposed to anyone else.

Maybe it was that fact.

Or maybe it was seeing Makoto’s slow movements, struggling to unbutton his shirt through his tiredness, or the way he ruffled his hair in lingering frustration from the previous study session.

Or the way his shirt seemed to pause as it glided off his broad shoulders, instead of just falling, as if trying to clutch and grip and stay attached to the muscles it used to cover, muscles that rippled with every movement.

This was so _not_ like watching Makoto change after practice.

Before realization hit him too hard, the brunette before him finally got off his shirt, throwing it away on the bed in a manner that was so unlike him that along with it went Haru’s thoughts.

Makoto was still wearing the tie, he didn’t seem to have bothered changing his school uniform before going out, school uniform that Haru was so used to seeing it was something he didn’t even notice anymore.

He’d never seen this tie with no shirt variation of the uniform though.

Funny how Makoto’s tie seemed to have the same desire to stick to his skin as his shirt had had, it enveloped his neck like an embrace and then fell down his torso, melting at the dip between his pectoral muscles, inching down to his navel and resting heavenly on his abs.

Each time Haru saw Makoto strip his muscles seemed to become more prominent and big, his best friend’s muscle gaining super ability was nothing new to him and yet, it never struck him so hard until that moment.  

His breathing had become ragged and loud and he hadn’t even notice it.

His fingers were itching, much like his skin itched for water, but he told himself it was because they had been idle for too long and not because they wanted to touch… something… else.

He picked the pencil and drew a line, not even looking at it, he couldn’t look, he couldn’t because Makoto had finished taking his tie off, making a mess of his hair in the process, flexing his biceps while he was at it too.

And now he proceeded to his belt.

“Hmm”

He startled himself, had that sound come from him?

He gulped again.

There was something so manly and cool about the way Makoto undid his belt buckle and then pulled it without patience, movements filled with frustration.

His throat was really dry now.  

Haru forced himself to look away, his notebook, yes he must keep his gaze glued to his notebook.  

He started sketching to take his mind off things, of thoughts, of images he didn’t want to process but couldn’t escape from.

He drew a line here, another there, and another and he was drawing… something, images of Makoto still flooding his brain, like a dam that rain drop by drain drop had grown pass it’s capacity and now was overflowing all over the place.

The drawing in his notebook now took form, he could see it, as clearly as the images of muscles and ties and shoulders and belt buckles in his brain, he could see it as clearly because it was exactly that.

He was drawing Makoto.

Stripping Makoto to be more precise.

And he didn’t want to stop.

 

 

“So Haru, did you check the English assignments as you promised?”

“hmm I tried”

Makoto chuckled and gave him a heartfelt smile, one of his usual sunny ones, yet it was particularly blinding that day.

“I tried too, but I didn’t have much luck” He admitted while scratching his neck.

_I know._

“So what else did you do last nigh-”

“Nothing!”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Because Haru is Makoto's muscles number one fanboy and we all know it.


End file.
